


Way, Hey, An' Up She Rises

by KaraStorm



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Drunkenness, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-11 20:20:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4450853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaraStorm/pseuds/KaraStorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On his first shore leave as the new captain, Kirk overindulges with the help of his friend and first officer, Mitchell, who abandons him in a seedy port bar. It is the science officer, Spock, who is missing his previous captain and is having second thoughts about joining the mission, who comes to his rescue. COMPLETE.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What Do You Do with a Drunken Captain?

The captain had been adamant, in a smiling, cajoling way. That was the reason Lt. Commander Spock beamed down to Kepler 395-2. He had pinpointed the location of the captain's communicator in close vicinity of the communicators of several other Enterprise officers in a maze-like commercial area just below the spaceport. The shiny wet streets of the Bowrey were hemmed in by high cliffs, dark against the glow of the spaceport up top. Spock lowered his tricorder before an establishment labeled Ye Dog's Breakfast. A lighted sign hung above the door in the shape of a dog with a flapping dragon in its mouth.

Inside, the air was warm but uncomfortably damp. The Enterprise officers were at booths on the left, fewer than expected, but it was rather late. Despite the lightwire and glow panels adorning every table, a great iron candelabra hung suspended over the small room, sputtering out a petroleum odor.

Lt. Commander Mitchell's voice came over the din. "Do you remember that lab instructor second year, the one that couldn't stop talking about the Martian Colonies? I wanted to make her so I did a week of reading up. Turned out she'd never been there."

His laughter bounced around the small space. Spock stepped back behind the teetering stacks of beer crates that formed a hollow partition between the door and the tables to evaluate the situation.

Mitchell had his arms around two woman. He leaned across one of them to say something to a third. The captain sat with a drink in his hand, smiling without the usual feeling to it. CMO Piper sat crushed in on the small bench beside the captain. He fixed his glass with a blurry-eyed look of affection. Chief Engineer Scott stood up from the next table and drew Lt. Riley and Lt. Sulu up with him.

"Beggin' your pardon, Captain. We're going to find a place with a wee bit more music."

Kirk waved him over and spoke to him regarding the ship. While his head was turned Mitchell poured half the contents of his own drink into Kirk's.

"Have a good time, Scotty," Kirk said, as Mr. Scott stood straight.

What was it with the human penchant for nicknaming fellow humans, equipment, and even lab samples? The chief engineer approached with a weaving step and Spock retreated to the street.

Spock's footsteps made a slapping, grinding noise distinct to rain soaked concrete, and wholly an off-world experience for a Vulcan. He listened to it echo as he made his way toward the center city. It was a companion to his walk between blaring music, thrumming drums, and the fermented scent of spilled beverage.

Spock replayed the invitation in his memory, analyzing it. It hadn't technically been a command. The new captain on his first leave had perfectly logical aspirations to socially bond with his officers. Spock had not intended to bend to the invitation. He had managed to avoid similar ones the previous ten years, three months and twenty days, having learned a lesson about such events in his first year on the ship.

Spock had projects on board to work on in excess of his available time. But he understood the captain's motivation, so therefore, logically, he had yielded and beamed down. That the captain had employed a strangely compelling smile full of charm and acceptance hadn't factored into it at all.

The stone door of the Planetary Capital Museum of Geology stood propped open. The museum, like all starport attractions in the galaxy, never closed, but the staff of which he could ask questions likely would not be present at this time of night.

He stepped away from the door and swung his tricorder around for a general scan to orient himself. On the device's screen, the city reflected sharp angles, the cliffs organic angles. He tuned the frequency. Life form blips came up as blurry glows then faded out as he continued adjusting. The glass windows showed as black pixels, openings on absorptive rooms within. He turned it back the other way, revealing building superstructure. When the dial came to a stop there was nothing but the hazy glow of cosmic radiation. He switched it off.

He continued walking. There was logic in temporarily experiencing no overhead except the gradually diminishing atmosphere and a scattering of stars.

Spock reached the residential area of the port town. The cliffs were wide apart here, embracing the entire city. The houses spread to the edge of yet another cliff overlooking a slate black world. Spock used his tricorder again. A many-stranded river covered most of the alluvial plain below, invisible by starlight, even to Vulcan eyes.

He refused to feel uneasy.

It was merely uncertainty. Logically he had beamed down to collect data about the new captain. He had grown accustomed to Captain Pike to a degree that any variance from that norm was unsettling. Pike had been a careful commander. Captain Kirk seemed overconfident in person and, based on his records, prone to recklessness.

Some kind of flying creature fluttered by. An imported bat from earth, brought to cope with the imported insects. It dashed in and out of the darkness, wings pattering against the air.

Spock had informed Starfleet Command that he would remain with the Enterprise. As the longest serving officer on board, Command had been keen to keep him in place.

Kepler 395-2 was the last spaceport for provisioning. Then the Enterprise would begin her new mission in earnest, two weeks after replacing her top two officers and forty seven other crewmembers. It wasn't Captain Kirk, precisely, that made Spock rethink what had been an obvious decision; it was Lt. Commander Mitchell, and only by proxy Captain Kirk, who records indicated had specifically requested Mitchell.

Rethinking a major decision without sufficient data was illogical. Spock dropped the tricorder onto its strap and turned back toward the port services district. Above it, the spaceport lights sent beams through a dusty haze. The city was well placed to be out of the direct blast line of an explosion at the port. A small consolation to Spock's evening.

Spock almost called for a beam up from where he was. But the captain's communicator signal was still in place, with no others around it. Curious, Spock walked toward the yellow and white spaceport strobe and the narrowing cliffs below it.

Only a handful of small ships arrived over the course of his walk back and many departed. The Bowrey was quiet as a result.

The captain was indeed alone. Although there were two groups of cargo haulers drinking sullenly in the far corners.

Kirk looked up as Spock approached and his face transformed into one of unmistakable appreciation.

"Mr. Spock, you made it down." He waved sloppily at the bench set at a right angle to his. "Have a seat."

Spock accepted, curious where the others had gone, but asking would reveal that he had came and went earlier. Kirk's flushed face quirked into a smile that could have been labeled sly, but he wore it too often for that to be likely.

"I hope. I hope you're excited about the mission," Kirk said, slurring the multi-syllable words.

"Excited is a human emotion, Captain. But crossing the galactic barrier will be a unique research opportunity."

Kirk started to sip his drink, stopped, set it down, then picked it up and took a swallow from it anyway.

"You want something?" Kirk asked, glancing around for the bartender. "You should have something." He leaned closer, red shot eyes narrowed. "Does alcohol even work on you?"

"Only moderately, Captain."

"That. That's a shame," Kirk said. "Really?"

"Romulan Ale, if it is authentic, can have a deleterious effect on my faculties."

Kirk laughed. "We wouldn't want that. But I can ask if they have some. I'm buying."

"It would likely be counterfeit and, in any event, I will pass."

Kirk waved his glass around to swirl the drops of brown liquid in the bottom of it. His head wasn't remaining upright particularly well.

Kirk said, "I either need another or I need to call it a night. What time is it, Science Officer?"

"It is oh three hundred and three planetside, but it is oh five hundred fifty two ship time."

Kirk glanced at Spock's hands, then back up at his face. "You didn't look at anything."

"No, sir."

Kirk puzzled that. "It's late." He stared off into space, sighed theatrically, and shook his head. "He took the women. All three."

"Lt. Commander Mitchell, I assume?"

Kirk's narrow gaze was suspicious. He leaned toward Spock and continued to lean more, but caught himself with the tabletop, which was fortunately anchored to the floor. "How did you know?"

"You are in his presence sixty eight point one three percent of the time when you are off duty during waking hours. I deemed it likely to be true on leave as well."

Kirk held up one bent finger. "You aren't wasting mind power knowing that sort of thing?"

"I did not know it until I computed it just now."

"Okay."

Kirk looked away while rolling his glass in his hand. "One might think, first leave with a captain's braid, I'd have better luck. What's the point otherwise?"

Spock drew himself up but could not find a response to what must be a satirical or hyperbolic question. "Indeed, Captain," he said, doing what Doctor Piper had advised in these situations: 'playing along noncommittally'.

Kirk dropped the glass and it knocked on the table, hard. He righted it and leaned his chin on one hand as if his head had grown unnaturally heavy.

"But the mission." Kirk rose from his stupor. "I want to know what happened to the Valiant. Command's not sending us for that, however. They're sending us because of you and your unit. You're the best." Kirk raised his empty glass in an unsteady toast and drank the few drops within.

"I'm curious. Did Command tell you that, Captain?"

"They did, in so many words. You didn't know you were the best science officer in the fleet?" Kirk hiccuped. "You couldn't compute that?"

"I have never attempted to do so."

"Pike said you were unexpectedly humble." Kirk waved at the bartender. "You know what else he said?"

Spock was starkly reminded of Pike's permanent absence. He masked the emotional reaction that resulted. "I don't know, sir."

"He left me summaries." Kirk peered at Spock with unexpectedly acute focus, as though seeing beyond the mask he'd just erected. "I'm curious what you thought . . . think he recorded."

"About myself?"

"Yes."

"What I believe he should have recorded or what I expect he actually did record?"

Kirk grinned and tossed his chin, a gesture Spock had never seen someone use regularly. It remind Spock of a spirited horse on a tight rein.

"Either one is fine," Kirk said.

"I expect he mentioned I require little sleep."

"He didn't happen to mention that."

Kirk propped his head on his hand, relaxed and sleepy, but attentive. He was in uniform but completely out of professional form. He was attempting to use the same non-verbal communication on Spock that he used on others. Pike had always utilized a special reserved attitude for Spock, a sort of non-human interface. It had allowed Spock to relax his guard. This man did nothing of the sort, quite the opposite.

"Tough question," Kirk said in a distinctly teasing tone.

"I expect he skipped including anything that was not obvious or could be learned from other sources. That would be illogical."

"Mhm."

Spock had another realization, that he was being tested. A human in Kirk's state was an unsuitable judge. Spock suppressed a sense of insult. Almost. And his words might have been motivated by his reaction.

"It is possible he informed you that I never lose at chess."

"He didn't. But that's not true anyway." Kirk wore a yet another smile now. A new one that despite his tired eyes had a definite predatory edge to it.

"I do not understand your meaning, Captain."

"I'm saying that you are going to lose at chess, Mr. Spock. So that's not true. Want to try again?"

Spock had sat straighter at this challenge, but let it pass.

Kirk's smile shifted to one of entertained. How many different smiles could one human have?

"Not going to argue with your drunk captain?" Kirk asked.

"You must admit that would be unproductive."

"I admit nothing." Kirk accepted the fresh blue drink the bartender brought. He traced the table with it by dragging the full glass over the surface. "But I want to hear at least one more guess."

There it was again. That non-command command. Spock was unaccustomed to this strange, personable ambiguity underlying instructions not strictly related to his official duties.

Spock had to look away from Kirk to let his thoughts come together. He did want to be correct at least once. After so many years, how could he not know exactly what Pike would record?

"I am willing to argue with my superior officer long after I should."

Kirk sat back and took a swig of his drink. "Very good, Mr. Spock. Want to try for two in a row?"

In that instant, Spock knew the next one must be on there. "I am not particularly adept at command."

"Not how he phrased it, but essentially correct." He scrunched his face in disappointment. "I was learning more about you when you were guessing wrong."

Kirk stared at his drink, stretched his neck from side to side.

Spock said, "May I inquire, Captain, what else was in the summary?"

Kirk's words sounded like they required extra effort. "He said I never need worry about you. Because you always take care of yourself. He said also." Kirk paused, seeming grim. "Something I'm a little curious about. But I don't. Don't want to make you uncomfortable this soon. We don't know each other."

Spock raised a brow.

Kirk's speech was slurring more. "He said if you got angry enough you'd snap. And everyone better get out of the way given how strong you are." He took another swallow of his drink. "I thought dropping that on me, then not telling me what would set you off was a cruel turn on Chris's part."

Kirk's blurry eyes looked Spock over. Spock did not discount Kirk's perception this time, no matter how inebriated he was getting.

Kirk sounded strangely casual as he said, "So what could set you off that badly?"

"Excessive personal insult, perhaps."

Kirk sniffled. He had slouched down, turning his half full glass in his outstretched hands.

"That would go along with you being epically, his word, proud, which was another thing he said."

Kirk closed his eyes and put a shaky hand to his brow. "Proud but humble. How's that work?" He pushed the drink to the tips of his fingers, out of reach. "This one's making me feel. Odd. I was sobering up, but this isn't it. Isn't taking care of it."

Spock swung his tricorder around.

"You take that down on leave?" Kirk asked.

It was the pet phrase Spock had heard from nearly every human who had ever seen him planetside off duty.

Kirk said softly, "Sorry. Apparently you do."

Spock looked up from the tricorder display. He had given no indication of his annoyance, he was certain. He went back to the readout.

"You have significant alcohol in your system, but also synthahol and garenahol. Which do not mix well in the human nervous system."

Kirk looked into his glass. "I wasn't mixing anything."

Spock, having intimated that he was not here earlier could not report on what he'd observed of Lt. Commander Mitchell's actions regarding the drinks. This was why even misleading statements were illogical to make, even if they were not lies.

"Perhaps you should return to the ship, Captain."

"It wasn't my time for leave anyway, given I've been on duty fifteen whole days. The rest of the crew was due. I suppose. Lt. Sulu could pilot the shuttle back."

"You brought the shuttle down?"

"I like flying the shuttle."

"Acknowledged."

Kirk stared off across the bar, perhaps taking a self-inventory. "I have a room at the towers. And twenty six more hours of leave. The weird feeling is passing."

"I could contact ship's medical."

Kirk looked around the bar. "Piper is down here, somewhere sleeping his own off."

"There are any number of other personnel who could administer alcohol absorbtive medicinals, Captain."

"But I want to be drunk. And I don't want to call for help. Understood?"

This was a command. Spock was certain this time.


	2. Earl-Eye in the Morning

Kirk leaned on the table and slid along the bench to the edge.

"Reminds me of a joke. Why do dilithium miners drink standing up?" Kirk leaned harder on the table and pushed to his feet. He waited there several breaths. Spock suspected the nerves in Kirk's inner ear were too chemically inhibited to be helpful in determining vertical orientation.

Spock came around the table and waited at ready.

Kirk tugged his uniform down. "So they're not surprised when they do."

The bartender came over with a pay terminal. Spock had a credit chit out before Kirk, partly because the latter lost his balance checking his pockets and had to lean on the table again.

"No fights tonight," the bartender said pleasantly. "Good night. Boring. But good. When you showed up with a Russian and a Scot I thought we were in for it. But they were good earth boys. When they get to the colonies it's all over."

Kirk swayed his way to the doorway with pure force of will and leaned on the doorframe. A misty rain was falling. Kirk's respiration was elevated as was his heart rate. Spock could just hear the beats of it over the hiss of the rain. He resisted using his tricorder.

"I recommend beaming aboard, Captain."

"You recommended that already," Kirk said, voice as unsteady as his body. "Proving Pike right about your arguing. Are there aircabs?"

"There are a handful that go between the city and the spaceport. I believe a groundcar would be easier to hire."

Kirk slid around the doorframe and stood outside under the overhang. "Pike forgot to mention you were a pedant."

"If I may speak plainly, sir?"

Kirk waved a clumsy hand to say he could.

"Specificity-"

" . . . is critical on a mission. I know." Kirk smiled. Yet another kind of smile. An apologetic one.

Spock pulled his tricorder out. "There are three groundcabs waiting at the edge of the Bowrey, Captain."

Kirk rubbed his neck and peered into the mist. The signage and lightwire doorways reflected off the pools on the roadway, spires of light beneath a dark glass surface. It smelled of moss and caves and distant dust turned to mud.

Spock let the tricorder hang on its strap and waited, hands latched behind his back. More than a decade under Pike and he had no experience to draw upon for his next action. Pike had been careful about maintaining his own control. He had often pretended to drink rather than actually doing so. And Spock had no experience with how Kirk may or may not react to assistance other than that he refused to involve the ship.

The mist was collecting into watery gems on Spock's boots and the black edge of his cuffs.

"I suspect you don't like getting wet," Kirk said.

Was this an invitation to offer another suggestion? Spock had no other suggestions. He said, "It is not preferable, but it is certainly not harmful."

Kirk righted himself by bracing his elbow against the door frame. His inner ear had apparently completely stopped functioning.

Kirk tossed his chin. "How far to the cabs?"

"Point six two of a kilometer."

Kirk pushed off with a determined air. His steps were brisk but uneven. Spock remained just beside, certain that the hazy darkness and the many reflections would make it impossible to balance indefinitely on vision alone, especially with a sluggish reaction time.

As they approached a thrumming club with a strobe flashing in a light cage around a tunnel entryway, Kirk grabbed Spock's forearm and put half his body weight on it as he fell into him.

Spock grabbed his arms and righted him, holding firm until he stopped swaying. Kirk had made it considerably farther than expected.

A loud group of ore haulers stumbled by, seemingly unaware of the rain. Spock waited for them to pass, adjusting his hold as Kirk's balance shifted.

"Would you accept more assistance?" Spock asked.

Kirk looked up at him. Mist collected immediately on his eye lashes. "If you're offering. Can't say no."

Spock put Kirk's right arm around his own shoulder and held fast to that hand. He looked around to orient himself relative to his last view of the tricorder and started walking.

"That's better," Kirk mumbled. "Thanks."

Kirk managed to match his pace now that he no longer needed to balance. At a bend in the street, Spock stopped. Kirk looked around, then rubbed his face on his sleeve.

"This way." Spock headed for a dark gap between the fake wood shake front of a fortune teller and a tattoo animation parlor.

Kirk stumbled and, for a few steps until they halted, Spock had all of his weight.

"You sure?" Kirk sounded nearly unconscious.

"It shortens the distance by half."

"If you can. See. Then fine." Kirk's head hung limp. Water droplets formed on his hair and dripped off. He shook his head and raised it. Spock could feel the effort it required through their physical contact. Kirk's system was far more inhibited than he was allowing to show.

They shuffled sideways to fit through the gap. The alley widened out but contained stacks of pallets and discarded plastic barrels.

"You can see?" Kirk held his free hand out before him. "I see I think. The other end. No."

"Do you wish to go the other way, Captain?"

Spock could feel Kirk's shoulder muscles tense then loosen.

"No, I trust you can see."

Spock adjusted his hold and took three quarters of Kirk's weight, leaving him enough force on his feet to walk normally. Kirk could barely manage. At least they were out of the rain.

"Captain, if you become incapacitated I will assume command and beam you to the ship."

"Duly noted. Commander."

They were most of the way through the alleyway when Kirk, apparently seeing the other side, increased the pace and put his foot through a pallet. Wood and fasteners rasped on concrete. Kirk grabbed at the air and Spock arrested his fall. The pallet slipped farther out from underneath Kirk, twisting his leg. Spock felt pain shoot through Kirk's ankle despite his boot as it pried at the slats.

Spock put his arms around him and hefted him level with ease. Kirk clung to him, both arms behind his neck. His acute disorientation in the darkness pounded at Spock's shielded mind.

Spock put a toe on the pallet, and lifted Kirk bodily by the ribcage. Kirk tossed his boot free and fell even more heavily into him trying to regain his feet. He was breathing heavily.

"You're warm," Kirk slurred.

Spock didn't move right away. People were walking by in the street ahead of them. But the two of them were well in darkness. Had someone fifteen days ago happened to ask him the odds that he would two weeks hence be bodily hugging his new captain in an alleyway of a spaceport, he would have cited odds not quite astronomical, but certainly close to it. His mathematical model would not have included sufficient extreme variability to the factors involving Kirk.

When it was quiet again, Spock said, "Are you ready to continue, Captain?"

The reply came from far closer to Spock's ear than voices usually came from. "How far?"

"About as far as we have come again."

Kirk's forehead rested heavier on Spock's shoulder. Spock resisted suggesting they beam out. Kirk was perfectly capable of remembering the previous two times it was suggested.

Kirk sounded sober as he chuckled, "What's worse, the transporter chief gossiping, or you carrying me?"

"Those sound equal to me, Captain."

"I didn't mean to get to this state."

Spock thought again of Mitchell. It caused more emotion to pulse through him than holding his captain did. If the first officer were willing to undermine the captain for the reward of a few hours with a woman the captain had an eye on, what limits did he have?

"Let's go," Kirk mumbled.

"Yes, sir."

Spock had a firm hold on Kirk as they stepped out from the alley. The pain in Kirk's ankle seemed to help his concentration and they made the cab stand relatively easily. Spock inserted a credit chit and the doors to the four-seater clamshelled open. Kirk swung himself awkwardly into the back and hung on the back of the seat ahead of him, head between his arms.

"Are you all right, Captain?"

Kirk nodded without looking up.

Spock decided he could better assist from the back if Kirk got into difficulty on the ride. He slid into the seat beside him and pressed the button for the doors. Kirk flopped back and canted his head between the headrests, eyes scrunched shut. The lights dimmed inside and the cab hummed to life and surged away down the empty streets.

Other than one groan on a sharp corner, the journey was in silence.

At the hotel, Spock levered Kirk out of the back and steered him to the lift with only a hand on his elbow. Kirk leaned against the lift wall and felt around in his pockets.

"I don't have a key." Kirk stopped to rub his head. "Wait, yes I do." He blindly handed over a plastic chit. "1125."

The lift responded to hearing a number and began ascending.

Kirk scrubbed his face. "Thanks for bringing me to my room, Mr. Spock." He dropped his hands. His eyes were excessively bloodshot. "Thanks for not calling the ship."

"I remain in disagreement with that, Captain."

"Noted."

The lift doors opened, Kirk tried to walk unaided and clipped his shoulder on the retracted lift door. Knocked off balance, he landed on his knees in the circular hallway.

"That will teach me." Kirk put a foot flat to stand but swayed and did not attempt it.

Spock held out a hand. Kirk took it. Remained on the floor. Looked at Spock.

"You are surprisingly strong," Kirk said.

Spock nodded and waited for Kirk to put tension on his hand before pulling him to his feet.

In the room, Kirk stumbled to the bed, clumsily tugged off his boots, then stumbled to the toilet.

Spock looked out the window over the curved couch lining the curved window and listened to the water running, splashing. In a similar state induced by illness, Pike would not only shun additional offered assistance, it would produce a backlash. Nevertheless, it was Spock's duty to do his best shy of contacting the ship.

In the kitchenette he dried his hair on a towel then found bottles of lemon soda to which he added precise measures of table salt in a slow stream while circulating the bottle so as to not cause an eruption of fizz. He placed these on the bedside table and retreated to the window again.

Kirk emerged and made it to the bed with some effort, entered a tugging war with his rain darkened shirt, which he eventually won, and collapsed backwards upon the covers with his uniform draped over his bare chest.

Spock approached, prepared to be reprimanded for doing so.

"Captain?"

There was a pause. "Hm?"

"In your condition, you should sleep on your side in case you take ill. As well," Spock picked up a soda bottle and held it out. "You should consume this."

Kirk sat up with a grunt and rolled onto his elbow and accepted the bottle. He drank it in three swallows.

"Oh. That's better." He rubbed his eye, pulled the pillow closer and fell sideways upon it.

Spock sat on the couch, grateful for the heater running behind him, and with his tricorder set on mute, scanned Kirk remotely. When a scan showed he was asleep, Spock crept back to the bed and pulled the free half of the bed cover over him.

To avoid thinking about the decision to remain on the Enterprise, Spock meditated on his research projects. He invented sample data to merge with already collected data and predicted what kinds of result strength could be expected and whether any adjustment should be made and the collection restarted.

At nine hundred hours, the door to the room slid open and Lt. Commander Mitchell strode in. When he spotted Spock, he stopped.

"What are you doing here, Lieutenant?"

He spoke in a normal voice and Kirk stirred on the bed.

Spock knew Mitchell knew his correct rank, and that it was equal to his own. But as first officer, he was Spock's superior. Rather than correct the error, which Mitchell likely wanted him to do, Spock revealed nothing of his reaction, a mode he was practiced at, albeit from a time before he joined Starfleet.

Spock said, "The captain was unable to return to his room unaided."

Mitchell glanced at Kirk, who had rolled over onto his back and begun snoring quietly.

Mitchell shrugged. "So? He's here now."

"He consumed a mixture of alcohol and related synthetic compounds that were capable of rendering him physically ill. I thought it best to remain." Mitchell rankled him so badly he was retreating into an ultra Vulcan mode. To his own ears, Spock sounded like one of his cousins rather than himself.

Mitchell scoffed. "Jim's an old drinker. It would take a lot more than that to hurt him."

"Am I to assume that you will assume responsibility for his care, Commander?"

Mitchell smiled in a way that hadn't been in Kirk's repertoire. It struck Spock as mocking. "Yes, Mr. Spock. I will. Run along."

Spock nodded as if this was a perfectly normal interaction and departed.


	3. Tie Him to a Line and Loose the Capstan

Outside the hotel, Spock flipped open his communicator but found himself unwilling to return to the ship at this time. Yet there was no logical reason to be planetside. He had made the wrong decision to remain with the Enterprise. He had not had sufficient data to make it.

"Enterprise here."

"Spock here. The captain came planetside in a shuttle. Please log that I will be returning in it. However, I do not know which shuttle the captain logged out."

There was a pause. Spock expected to be questioned. He would do so it if were himself at communications and the crewmember calling in so clearly was not acting on orders to the point of not even knowing precisely which equipment.

Logically, the captain was unlikely to be fit to return the shuttle himself and logically, since the Enterprise orbit was seven thousand four hundred and fifty one kilometers above the planet surface, it would require five hours, four minutes and fifty seven seconds to ascend. The Enterprise's departure could conceivably be delayed if the shuttle were not piloted away in time.

"The Copernicus. I've logged it, Commander."

Spock closed the communicator and scanned for an aircab with his tricorder.

\-------- 8888 --------

Kirk flinched away from the sunlight glaring across the bed from the wall of windows.

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty."

Kirk sat up and scrubbed the substantial grit from his eyes. Mitchell was standing over him, sipping from a bottle of lemon soda.

"That's mine." Kirk held his hand out.

"Tastes awful."

Kirk took the bottle and drank it down. He felt immediately better. "You take my soda. You took all the women last night."

Mitchell gave a little shrug. "What can I say. You weren't good company, apparently."

Kirk found his uniform shirt on the floor and slipped it on as he walked with welcome steadiness to the bathroom.

From the room proper Mitchell said, "That creepy nerd was here when I came in this morning."

Kirk yanked the toothbrush from his mouth and spit. He stood in the doorway, now fully awake.

"What are you talking about?"

Mitchell was messing with the control panel for the room, making the windows dim to near darkness with only a ball of light floating in the center by repeatedly punching one of the buttons.

"Spock. Who else?"

"I don't. Ever. Want to hear any officer on my ship referred to that way by another officer." He waited for a response.

Mitchell stood straight and put his fists on his hips. The sphere of the sun seethed behind him in the dimmed window. "Understood. Just letting off steam, Jim."

"Not that way. Not on my ship." Kirk returned to wash his face. "Enterprise has nearly three times the crew as the Republic, Gary, and lots of seasoned crew who are going to, rightly, expect respect."

Mitchell leaned on the bathroom doorway, feet and arms crossed. "Without earning it?"

Kirk paused in drying his face. "They've already earned it. You just aren't recognizing that. It's not going to make you an effective first if everyone hates you right off the bat."

"Hate isn't that far from respect."

Kirk tossed the towel into the sink. "It's not even related, Gary." He marched into the room and began gathering his things.

"Going somewhere? You don't want to go out today, this evening?"

"You are reminding me that I have a ship to take care of. And I now want to go do that."

"You were keen to come down yesterday."

"That's because I had a complement of officers to get to know by doing so." He found his communicator and flipped it open.

"Enterprise here."

Kirk already liked Lt. Uhura's voice, but she sounded almost divine at that moment. He needed to move her to alpha shift.

"Kirk here. We may need to start recalling the crew at oh two hundred base time to make our scheduled break from orbit. Can you inform everyone who is planetside or going planetside? And I'll be bringing the shuttle back early, inform the shuttle bay."

"Mr. Spock is already en route in the shuttle, Captain."

"Acknowledged. That will save me some time, Kirk out."

He hitched the communicator on his belt and kept moving as a distraction.

Mitchell wore a sly look. "Did you authorize Spock to take the shuttle?"

Kirk stopped and recalled the conversation of the night before. "We discussed the shuttle, yes." He acted annoyed with himself. "That was bad form, wasn't it? First stop will be medical for hangover hypos. Then a tour of the ship. What to join me?"

"You did that a week ago."

"Can't do it too often."

"I'll come along if you want me to."

"I want you to. We both need to get to know everyone before we encounter anything dangerous."

\-------- 8888 --------

Spock made fine manual course adjustments as the shuttle moved into upper atmosphere. He had the telemetric display on lens mode, which provided an overview and detailed data at the same time in a distorted view. He was flying fully manual to avoid the meditation he had originally intended to get time for by assigning himself this duty in the first place.

He was experiencing far too much emotion, and worse yet, acting upon it. The surrounding shuttle was a concrete reminder of that. On the other hand, he now had a new understanding of his human fellows on a topic he never imagined he would. He had frequently observed humans intentionally breaking a rule under conditions certain to bring punishment. Were he not in full control of his emotions, it might have been maddening to observe. Yet, he may have just done exactly the same thing.

He wasn't prepared to meditate on why.

It was too late to rescind his acceptance of this assignment to remain with the Enterprise, not without gross inconvenience to many. Better to plan to leave at the more common six month mark. If what Kirk said was true, command would give him a choice in assignments. And he could take his best people with him. He had not considered before whether he was a leader, but the realization that many would follow if he transferred meant he was one whether conscious of it or not.

There would be a great deal of waste. Projects disrupted or ended early. Loss of access to customized equipment. New superior officers who may not be any better than the old, and could potentially be worse.

Logically, he should remain and carve out his area of control and when forced by duty to leave it, use his best disciplines to manage it unscathed.

Spock docked the shuttle and assisted with running system's and equipment checks. The ensign on duty expressed surprise and gratitude and gave him a sloppy old style salute as he departed, a gesture a lot of the transfers seemed to be using. 

In his quarters he had a message pending to meet with the captain in his quarters at nineteen hundred. Were it Pike, it would have been a two days hence to give the crewmember in question plenty of time to grow fully anxious about the encounter. Mr. Scott left a message asking him to guide some newly assigned engineering techs on a minor teardown to break them in. He may have to leave them unattended while he met with the captain.

\-------- 8888 --------

Spock was on the floor along with the three techs, calibrating an auxiliary forward sensor when the captain and first officer came through on a casual walk-through of the ship. The techs came to attention and seemed concerned about the disconnected state of things and requested they get a warning next time.

Kirk gave them one of his sympathetic smiles. Mitchell said, "How would we know how you are really performing if you had time to prepare?"

Spock had not stood. He had an oscillating crystal set on a test board and was observing its behavior on a scanner. Kirk stepped up behind him to look down over his shoulder.

"Is there something wrong with the unit?"

"The unit is operating within specifications, Captain, but I am hoping to increase its granularity by fine tuning it."

"That's a rather old timing unit," Kirk said. "Why is that still in use?"

Spock looked up at him, surprised he could recognize the board. Behind Kirk, Mitchell wore a smirk.

Spock said, "This design is far more reliable, especially under conditions of high radiation or electromagnetic pulse. Since it is a backup unit, its lower specifications are generally not an issue."

"Of course. One would be pleased to not be flying blind if it comes to it. Do you do that with most of the equipment?" Kirk glanced around the access bay where much of the secondary navigation equipment was housed.

"I'm not certain the meaning of your question, Captain."

"It was pretty clear, Science Officer," Mitchell said.

Kirk glanced over his shoulder and back at Spock. He said, "Do you try and retain a different, but more robust, tech on all the back up systems?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. I'm glad to hear it." He genuinely looked pleased.

Mitchell stood with arms crossed. "Makes perfect sense. Whatever made the first unit fail is likely to take out the secondary if the tech is identical."

"Yes, of course," Kirk said vaguely.

Kirk turned to the smallest of the techs. "Felix, right?"

She saluted with a spanner. "Yes, sir."

"Born in Mexico City."

The tech brightened even more which did not seem possible a second before. "Yes, sir."

Kirk went down the line, asking personal questions of each of them, demonstrating he not only knew names but had memorized personnel records.

Mitchell kept glancing at Spock working on the floor. Spock knew this not because he looked back, but from the psychic heat of his attention.

After the senior officers departed, the techs exchanged smiles and gossip about the captain. Spock marveled that Kirk seemed to have found the emotional key to each of them in just minutes. Not only did they not realize it had happened but that they were genuinely pleased. Spock could not be more pleased to be immune.

\-------- 8888 --------

In the lift, Kirk pulled the handle to bring them to a halt.

"You did really well until the secondary nav bay. I just realized what's happening."

Mitchell stood with hands behind his back. He raised his brows and blinked questioningly.

"You're behaving like a jilted boyfriend. And it's getting old fast. Knock it off."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ""That's mine." Kirk held his hand out."
> 
> For those keeping score at home, the story pivots right here. (I love this line. It's so short and simple but it says so much.)
> 
> Spock gave him that and hell if he's giving it up. Plus he knows he needs that thing Spock has given him and he realizes it without putting any thought into it.


	4. Put Him in the Long-Boat and Make Him Bail Her

Spock stood outside the captain's quarters, waiting the necessary twenty-four and a half seconds to buzz at precisely nineteen hundred. He understood now why he had taken the shuttle and perhaps reconciled the logic of it, as forcing a confrontation. But it was only a logical method to employ if one could not confront said issue otherwise. He was not certain that was true.

The door slid open immediately after he buzzed for admittance. Spock glanced around and found Mitchell absent.

"Come in, Mr. Spock. Sit if you like, or stand if you don't."

"I will stand, Captain."

Kirk hitched a hip on his desk and crossed his arms. "You work in engineering often?" He sounded as if he were still speaking to one of the techs about his or her hometown.

"Not infrequently."

"Mr. Scott appears to be using you as a trainer."

"This is an exceptional situation where we have a greater than usual number of new, entry-level crew."

"I guess if you don't sleep you can manage several jobs."

Spock nodded. He felt he was being lured into a false sense of passivity. Despite Kirk's casual conversation, Spock kept ready his arguments for why he had taken the shuttle.

Kirk considered him, expression intermittently distant.

"I wanted to apologize to you, Commander."

"Sir?"

Kirk dropped his arms in what appeared to be a conscious gesture. "I put you in a position that would have been extremely awkward for any of my officers, let alone a Vulcan one." He rubbed his eyebrow and frowned. "I cringe when I remember last night. I should not have gotten into that state. I will make a point of never doing so again."

He smiled uncomfortably, his posture growing friendly. "This morning I woke up thinking that I should be disciplined for it, then remembered I AM the captain. Nor can I think of any way to remediate things with you."

A silence settled on the room. Spock decided he should speak. "There is no need, Captain."

Kirk's gaze grew alert, his posture challenging. "I'm getting the sense that you aren't bothered by what happened. And I don't understand that."

"I am not bothered, Captain."

The drilling gaze continued. "Your record says you are incapable of lying. Which I don't believe, by the way. I think any intelligent species is capable of lying. Are you really incapable of lying?"

Spock raise a brow. "I am, of course, neurologically capable of it, but it is abhorrently illogical to do so."

"So you aren't lying right now?"

Spock felt both of his brows go up. "No, sir."

"I don't get it. I thought I understood you a little. I thought I knew something about Vulcans. I don't like finding out I'm that far off the mark."

"I see. Perhaps I do not know you well enough to be offended by your actions. I have very few expectations at this time."

"You really haven't put any thought into this?" Kirk asked.

"No, sir."

Kirk leaned more heavily on the desk. "Your profile says you're not to be touched. So it's already offensive to have put in a position of not having a choice." Kirk sounded offended himself. "Explain how what happened didn't bother you."

"If I have warning, I am more than capable of shielding out any unwanted mind-contact."

Kirk remained challenging. "That's all there is to it?"

Spock nodded.

Kirk did not appear to believe him. "That doesn't seem to cover this sort of situation with regard to, say, an average Vulcan. But continuing to disbelieve you is likely offensive in itself."

"I am crediting it to your lack of familiarity with me, Captain."

"Well, we were getting pretty familiar last night." Kirk settled from his agitated state and sighed. "But all right. I'll accept that for now. I certainly didn't intend to get so personal with you."

Kirk crossed his arms again. "On another topic, I get the sense you are clashing with my first officer. What is your assessment of that?"

Spock searched for words. "I have not determined the logic behind his command style, sir."

Kirk considered that, longer than required.

"He can be a bit brusque," Kirk said. "But I've known him a long time."

"I am aware of that from your records."

"I get the feeling, Mr. Spock. And you are going to discover I work off my instincts a lot. Which is probably going to bother you. But I get the feeling you're writing off Commander Mitchell, and probably me as well because I made the decision to bring him on."

Spock didn't have a reply to this abrupt disclosure of his thoughts. He wondered what had revealed it because whatever it was, it needed to be stopped.

Kirk said, "It fits you not caring that I offended you, for one thing. Funny, Pike said one other thing in his summary about you that I had decided was a parting jest of sorts. He said it was impossible to know what you were thinking, Mr. Spock. But most of the time, it's pretty obvious."

Kirk's studied Spock's face, then expressed a muted delight. "Well, I see Pike wasn't joking. You don't, in the least, expect me to know what you're thinking." Kirk scratched the back of his head.

"Let's start again." Kirk marked off on his fingers as he talked. "You are unhappy- displeased, sorry, with the first officer I've chosen. I suspect you've weighed your options and found them lacking given that we are about to enter uncharted space, which is why I haven't seen a transfer request. You took the shuttle as something like an act of rebellion, which I'm impressed with given that I didn't see any precedent for it in your records." Kirk paused. "How am I doing?"

Kirk only waited a beat. "Pretty well, I see."

Spock regrouped, tried to get ahead of Kirk. "And your conclusion from this is?"

"I wasn't certain I was correct. But now that I am, let me address them. You probably have any number of logical reasons for taking the shuttle, all of which I'm willing to back you up on. I lied to Mitchell about having authorized you to take it, just so you're aware of that. I'll chalk it up as an aberration in your behavior. If there were no logical reasons to fall back on I'm willing to bet a year's pay that you wouldn't have done it."

Kirk paused to study the outcome of this. Spock gave absolutely no indication of his thoughts. Kirk tilted his head as though amused and ticked back one finger.

"You are an invaluable member of this crew, in ways I won't be fully aware of for months, in fact, I learned just today you are doing yet another job, and I'm willing to go out on a limb to keep you here, whatever that takes. And I mean that. Try me on it if you don't believe me."

Kirk slid off the desk and faced Spock, still counting on his fingers. "As to Commander Mitchell, I'll keep an eye on him. We've already had a talk or two. He does need to grow into his position, but he'll get there." He dropped his arms.

"I see, Captain."

"You don't sound hopeful."

Spock carefully composed his answer. "I am grateful for your consideration regarding the shuttle. I am content to remain in this assignment for at least six months, which is likely the amount of time we will be away from Federation space, and shall reevaluate my options at that time. Regarding Commander Mitchell, however, I do not see your proposed solution having any impact."

"Really?" Kirk blinked and pulled back from his command posture. He sounded honestly concerned. "Why not?"

When Spock hesitated, Kirk said, "Spock, I want you to speak freely to me about this. It's important."

"Because. Captain. It isn't that he disrespects at least some of his fellow officers, it's that I'm quite certain he disrespects you."

Kirk absorbed the last statement with his entire body. Rather than grow angry as expected, he grew deeply thoughtful. He turned aside and eventually looked sideways at Spock.

"I'd like to think I know him better than you do. But I'm also likely blinded by friendship."

Kirk paced around and turned back to face Spock, resuming a commanding posture. "I'll tell you why I requested his assignment. In case that helps. He is, no doubt, self centered, but I've found that useful in judging others' confidence in themselves by how they react to him. Really skilled people work around his rough edges without slowing down. He gets things done because he disregards feelings. But the main reason is that in a pinch he has always been there. Maybe it's just a side effect of his overinflated ego, but no matter how much sacrifice or risk it takes, he'll be there. And I'll admit, I needed to know I had that available when I accepted this command. Maybe that was a moment of weakness on my part, I don't know for certain. I see now that long term, day to day, his attitude is going to introduce problems."

Kirk drew in his lips and let them loose again. "But until you just now said what you said about respect, I had every confidence I could fix his shortcomings. Because as a captain the alternative seemed to be that I could have all kinds of personable officers, but none of them I knew would come through in a crisis. I'm still relatively confident regarding him. Nevertheless."

Spock required some time to apprehend that Kirk was looking for his approval.

"I understand, Captain."

Kirk's lips crooked in a wry smile. "Well, thanks for saying so, anyway."

"I will defer to you, sir. I am not skilled in this sort of judgement of others, in leadership, essentially."

Kirk smiled solidly. "Spock, I even think I can fix that."

Spock raised a brow.

"Can you throw me a bone here."

"I do not understand that colloquialism, Captain."

Kirk had a friendly tone as he said, "I suppose for someone who likes order, any change is disruptive. But is there anything about my command that you are pleased about?"

Spock became thoughtful. Kirk's unnerving astuteness was a boon to communication, but not in a way Spock was pleased about without adapting his expectations to it. Kirk was certainly skilled at leading humans, at inspiring them to think of themselves as part of a larger whole, but it would be preferable for that to be less emotionally driven.

Kirk said, "Are you stalling on purpose, or is this really that difficult a question?"

"I am thinking, sir."

Kirk dropped his shoulders. "Right."

Spock considered that Kirk was more technically knowledgeable than expected. But was that the best he could say? It wasn't related to command, precisely.

"Spock, you may be the best thing on this ship for me." Kirk shook his head in a tragic manner. "You are terribly humbling."

"I do not intend to be."

"I know. That's why it's so effective."

Kirk leaned a hand on the desk and tilted his head inquisitively, demonstrating again that he was not above using charm on anyone. Perhaps he was unaware of doing it.

Spock needed to say something. "You are quite good at inspiring your fellow humans."

Kirk said, "I'm trying to work out how to make your service on board pleasing enough for you to want to stay. I need something that applies to you."

Spock noted that Kirk had dropped all title and rank from the conversation.

"There is something."

Kirk's brows rose. "Yes?"

Spock considered drunken Kirk's full trust in him the night before. "You are not the least bit frightened of me."

Kirk pushed his shoulders back. "I don't- Why would I be?"

Spock studied him, looking for deception and finding none.

Kirk spoke into the silence. "You don't believe me. Is this usually a problem?"

Spock nodded vaguely.

Kirk's chest filled with a deep breath and remained puffed out. "You haven't given me any reason to be afraid of you. Have you?"

"It does not usually require any reason beyond my superior strength and my ability to read minds."

"Your legendary inscrutability probably doesn't help." Kirk was half teasing, Spock could tell by the use of hyperbole and the faint smirk.

Spock said, "I would have doubted your veracity had you simply informed me that you felt I posed no threat. But I have noted on many occasions that alcohol, as it suppresses inhibitions, accentuates select personality traits. The angry become more so. The delusional more so. The gregarious more so. Inebriation made you more trusting and, at the same time, incapable of carrying off a deception."

"Awkward way to demonstrate it to you, but I'm glad I did if that's all I have going for me." Kirk smiled wryly. "I'd like to exceed Pike on something."

"Do not concern yourself. You already have on that point."

Kirk became still. "You aren't telling me Chris Pike was afraid of you?"

"Not quite in those terms. Uneasy, perhaps. Fear of telepaths is well documented among non telepathic-"

Kirk waved for him to stop. "I want a direct answer. Yes or no."

Spock had not intended to disparage his previous captain. He was only trying reassure this one.

"He grew accustomed to me-"

"That's not the question." Kirk had grown aggressive for reasons Spock could not comprehend.

Spock looked away, tried to find something to say that walked the fine line between his current and previous captains.

"Easy question, Mr. Spock. Yes or no."

"If the options are binary, that is actually difficult to answer."

"Only because you don't want to answer it."

"I was pleased with the working relationship I had with Captain Pike."

"I'm glad to hear that. Also doesn't answer the question." Kirk backed down. "Did you give him a reason to be uneasy?"

"Not that I am aware of. But that is true in most cases. But unlike others, Captain Pike worked around it, and I am grateful that he promoted me to science officer even though it meant having to work more closely-"

"No." The word snapped out. Kirk's posture had transformed. He looked as though current were passing over his skin. "No."

Spock fell silent in confusion.

"You are not grateful, Mr. Spock. I will not stand here and allow you to be." Kirk paced to the vanity and back again, shaking his head. He came right up to Spock, seeming taller than he was.

"Spock," he said, voice loaded with emotion. "Spock," he repeated, reaching out and brushing Spock's upper arms with his finger tips. The emotion, whatever it was, was rapidly brought under control. "You deserve better than that."

Spock started to explain, then stopped to better compose his reply. "You are an idealist, Captain Kirk, with no perspective on the situation. I was fortunate to get a starship posting at all, rather than a scientific vessel. The situation is considerably better now, so it is perhaps difficult for you to understand how it seemed at the time, in the context of my options."

Kirk tilted his head back in what seemed to be an expression of defeat.

Spock said. "I am grateful."

Kirk experienced the same physical reaction.

Spock said, "That makes you angry?"

"Yes." Kirk calmed more quickly this time. "But you are right that controversy over Vulcans on armed vessels is now mostly settled. And I am forgetting that you helped settle it. I'm overlooking how hard that alone must have been to accomplish."

Kirk rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head again, consciously breathing in and out once. Then he was nearly back to normal.

Spock said, "I have discovered a second positive thing about you."

Kirk brightened. "And that is?"

"You are in firm control of your emotions if you need to be."

"Coming from you that is quite a compliment. Well, two things you are pleased about. I should quit while I'm ahead."

Kirk looked down at the desk in thought. "I've been intentionally not measuring myself with regard to Pike. But with you, it's harder to avoid doing." He looked up. "I'm more than prepared to defend you. You deserve a vigorous defense."

Spock nodded acknowledgement of this. He wasn't certain where so much commitment could come from so rapidly. Perhaps the principle of it was enough motivation.

Kirk said, "I'm glad we talked. I wasn't sure how well I could repair the damage from leave. I was certain I had offended you utterly with my behavior. And I can't express how relieved I am that I didn't. Although I still don't understand that."

"It was an opportunity to collect data."

"On me."

Spock purposely allowed himself a haughty air, an attempt to communicate at Kirk's level. "I saw no reason not to."

He was rewarded with a grin.

"Spock, keep in mind I'm always here if you have something on your mind that needs discussing. On the record or off. All right? More data collection opportunities if you will."

"Yes, sir."

"And have a little patience with Gary, if you would, please. I have high hopes for him."

Spock marveled at how small this request seemed now. Without logical argument, by simply demonstrating an acute understanding of his predicament, Kirk had reformed Spock's personal landscape. This human's confidence was illogically infectious. Or perhaps Spock needed to broaden his thinking, perhaps he had grown sedate under Pike's predictability.

Spock adopted a respectful tone. "Because you have requested it. I shall endeavor to do so, Captain."

"Thank you, Spock." Kirk swung his hands together, pressed a fist into his palm. "And in the meantime, would you do me the honor of submitting to a game of chess?"

Spock recalled Kirk's drunken bragging the night before. He did not mask his emotion of eagerness to prove Kirk wrong. He lowered his voice and mirrored Kirk's eager gaze.

"Indeed, Captain. Whenever you wish."

The resulting grin spread across Kirk's face, the smile of a man with the universe at his feet.

"Excellent. How about right now?"


	5. Shave His Belly with a Rusty Razor

"I am, at this moment, overseeing three of Mr. Scott's greenest techs, Captain."

"Can't wait?"

"I think it wise that it not. They have tools. They will grow bored. And there is quite a bit of sensitive equipment in the secondary navigation access bay."

Kirk thoughtfully scratched his chin. "So, you are saying that keeping the ship in one piece is more important then our chess match. Just so you aren't stalling."

Spock was preparing to depart, but he stopped. It was illogical, but Kirk's questioning his motives struck him as friendly rather than insulting.

Kirk waved him off. "Go on. Take care of the techs."

"Yes, sir."

\-------- 8888 ---------

In the access bay, Spock found the techs on the floor with the many pieces of the backup forward sensor in neat rows on the floor.

"There are special bin carts for this level of tear down," Spock said. "They are in the storage room on deck fourteen."

"Told you," one of the techs said to the other.

"We found the specs for each of the components." Felix held up a padd with an exploded diagram.

"Perhaps you can start by reassembling and testing each sub-component, following those specifications. I'll return in an hour."

They seemed happy enough with this idea. "Yes, sir."

\-------- 8888 ---------

"How were things in the secondary access bay?" Kirk asked.

"Fortunately they seem to only have discovered the non-destructive testing protocols."

Kirk gingerly carried the chess board from the ledge to the desk.

"Should you have stayed?"

"There is not much difference at this point. I will undoubtedly take the unit apart and put it back together entirely in any event. Might as well let them attempt it. If I stay I will end up doing much of it, which will take away from their opportunity to learn."

Kirk took up two pawns and held them behind his back, then brought forth two closed hands for Spock to chose between.

"See, Spock, you have at least one of the key instincts for leadership. We also got the cream of Starfleet this round of transfers. Best to give them more room to fail and let them surprise us when they don't." Kirk held his hands up higher. "Pick one."

"You may chose, Captain. I suspect you did not keep track of which is which and the choice is the same."

Kirk opened his right hand to reveal the white pawn. He rotated the board around and pulled his office chair to the end of the desk.

"I'll take any advantage I can get."

"That sounds less than confident, Captain." Spock wondered at himself. Kirk seemed to invite or even expect this sort of depreciating banter. It was communication on a level Spock found himself unexpectedly skilled at, despite never attempting it before. Or he felt skilled at it. Perhaps he could not judge it.

"It has nothing to do with my confidence level. I always take any advantage whenever I can get one." Kirk moved a pawn up a level with an almost dismissive gesture. "I've never heard a good argument against doing so."

Spock recognized fifteen potential standard openings Kirk might be following. He moved his bishop to the top level, knight 2, his father's favorite response.

Eight moves later, Spock spent far more time studying the board.

Kirk released the door to allow Mitchell in when he buzzed. Spock looked up then back at the board, face absolutely neutral.

Mitchell handed Kirk a tape. "Gamma shift wants to know if you are taking us out of orbit yourself."

"Is there a reason I should?"

"Not really, we have a course already plotted."

"Tell them to call me when we are about to break orbit, but I'll let them handle it."

Mitchell put his hands on the desk and leaned down to look at the board. "Won yet?" he asked Kirk.

"First game."

"Winning this one?"

"I think it's a draw."

Mitchell's gaze slid over to Spock. He grinned, again that kind of grin Spock never expected to see on Kirk.

"I'll be sorry to miss it when you do."

Spock said, "Commander, do you play chess with the captain?"

Mitchell stood up, propped hands on hips. "Are you kidding? Of course not. For one thing, it would bore Jim to tears. No point in playing if there is no question about the outcome."

"I see," Spock said. But it felt weak to say so little. "So you are certain that you would lose."

"Of course. I pick my battles more carefully than that. You'll learn to too, Mr. Spock."

Mitchell winked at Kirk.

Spock allowed himself to sound mystified. "You are implying that one should shirk from a challenge?"

Spock was acutely aware that he was speaking to Kirk despite addressing Mitchell and disliked the duplicitous nature of this conversation. Banter was one thing, doublespeak was entirely another.

Mitchell bent over the desk again, getting too close, but Spock remained in place, disciplined.

Mitchell said, "There are challenges, Spock, and there are lost causes. I pride myself on spotting the difference early on."

And you've classified me as a lost cause, Spock wanted to say. But along what metrics, Spock couldn't hypothesize.

Kirk broke the silence, and Spock wondered if the captain was guessing his thoughts yet again. Spock half hoped he was.

"We're going to finish this game, Gary. I'll review these." Kirk spoke with a casual easiness that Spock now knew was cover for another emotion he didn't want to reveal.

Mitchell tilted his head, indicating Spock. "Leave a little for the vultures to pick through." He waggled his eyebrows knowingly at Kirk and departed.

Kirk picked up the data tape Mitchell had left and began viewing it on the desk monitor.

Spock felt more relief than he preferred in the wake of Mitchell's departure. It was going to be a long mission. He returned to the game to clear his mind.

Perhaps feeling annoyed, Spock said, "Captain, your moves are illogical."

"It should be easy to be beat me then."

Spock looked the board over as if he were seeing it for the first time in an effort to spot something he'd missed. "Why do you consider it a likely draw? It is nearly equal strength, with a slight advantage to me, but that does not necessarily lead to a draw."

Kirk continued reading from the monitor at his desk, bent over to reach the buttons. "Because I think I know what move you are about to make."

Spock took a deep slow breath and held it.

Kirk said, "So this is an interesting test. Are you going to make a different move, just to foil me when you don't see what you're foiling?"

"Your confidence is irrational." As soon as Spock said it, he regretted it as out of line. He would never have said such a thing to Pike. Kirk didn't react, simply kept reading.

Spock moved his knight forward, same level. He was one move from checking Kirk where the Captain would have to sacrifice to escape.

Kirk glanced over. "Pawn to rook 3 level 2," he said.

Spock frowned in confusion and made the move. It opened sight lines for Kirk's bishop and queen.

Kirk said, "Check, right?"

"I should have predicted that." Spock moved his king aside, out of risk. But now he was a move behind.

Kirk resumed his seat at the game, face bright, arms on the desk. "It's a draw now, I think."

Spock looked over his positions. His gambit had collapsed. He now had two pieces at risk with no potential gain.

"You are perhaps being generous declaring it a draw," Spock said.

Kirk raised his chin to look over the board. "No, I can chase you around the board, but you'd have to make an actual mistake for me to get you into mate."

Spock dropped his arm off the table and sat up straighter.

"Want to reset it and go again?" Kirk asked.

"I should check in with Mr. Scott's techs."

"As long as you aren't stalling."

Spock looked the board over again, replaying his decisions. "I may very well be stalling, Captain."

Kirk smiled kindly. "You're a very good player, Spock. You don't know how pleased I am to know that."

"Do you lack for partners, Captain?"

"You might say that." Kirk carried the board back to the ledge, sliding it over onto it with care to not upset the pieces. He turned back. "Did I hear a bit of sarcasm there? Or maybe false surprise?"

"The latter." Spock stood. He needed time away from Kirk to halt this new penchant for bantering. "With your permission?"

"Yes, of course. Please do attend to the crew taking the ship apart."

Kirk stood and followed him to the door. "We have a long haul to the barrier, even at its closest point. I expect to have a bit of downtime for a few more games before then. If you're willing."

"I am of course willing. Your style of play notwithstanding, it is my preferred game of strategy."

"Well, get your part of the ship in order, and I'll get mine and hopefully we'll be ready for the barrier by the time we get there. And on the way I can teach you how to lose at chess."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The events of the episode Where No Man Has Gone Before occur at this point, with the exception of the very last scene on the bridge before the credits, which goes after the next chapter.


	6. Give 'im the Hair of the Dog that Bit Him

The doors swished closed behind Kirk and silence enveloped him, but his quarters did not feel like a refuge. Likely no place would. He moved on automatic, tugged off his torn uniform shirt and tossed it into the disposal. He shouldn't remain here long. He needed to be out and about on the ship, visible, a paragon of untouchable strength.

He pulled out a fresh uniform and fingered the cuff. That braid meant that there would always be something he had to do that he did not want to do. His responsibilities were larger than him. He knew that going in. He knew it now. He just had to keep accepting it for the future.

His shoulder complained bitterly when he slipped the shirt over his head. He hadn't noticed the shoulder with his hand throbbing the way it was.

The pain was welcome. He went to the monitor and flipped through the status reports left handed. He couldn't comprehend the details but the sense of the ship being safe, being slowly made whole again, began to seep into his insecurity.

There was dirt in his hair. He dampened a towel and scrubbed it until the grit was gone. Likewise he rubbed the dried blood off his face. Then he combed his hair repeatedly with this fingers.

The door buzzer sounded harshly in the quiet room. He wondered how long he'd been standing there, thinking about nothing. He reached for the switch, half expecting it would be Mitchell. A debilitating twinge of regret made him pull back. He gathered his tattered control into a tight ball and pressed the switch for the door.

Spock stepped in. He put his hands behind his back and waited, posture deferential.

"Mr. Spock," Kirk said.

"Captain." He waited, taking Kirk in. "Mr. Scott reports that restoring the station to its previous condition will require approximately sixteen hours."

"That's fine." Kirk wanted to rub his hand again, test how badly the pain would respond to touch, but resisted in front of Spock.

Kirk said, "I need to go to the bridge."

Spock accompanied him in silence. Kirk was certain that Spock's posture was different, his head bent more, his shoulders sloped more. If it were anyone else, Kirk would feel irritated at being catered to. But Spock was above patronizing. He too was responding to events and Kirk needed to let him do that, needed to accept it as part of a relationship, not something being done only for his benefit.

The bridge crew reacted to his arrival by sitting up and growing alert. Kirk took the center seat. Spock didn't take over the science console, he remained beside Kirk.

"Give me the ship's intercom."

Communications hit a few switches and nodded. Kirk let himself appreciate his bridge crew's unfazed adherence to duty.

"This is the captain. We are on a mission to explore the galaxy, both astronomical phenomenon and all forms of life. We expect to encounter dangers as part of the unknown. We expect to not always recognize them as dangers, just as we don't always expect to recognize friends without putting a bit of effort into it."

Kirk took a deep breath, making sure he sounded utterly unmoved. "It's not necessarily the unknown in front of us that will cause us the most danger. We can be enamored by what we are discovering and miss that the biggest danger is the unexplored selves within us. None of us can predict how we will perform until we are actually faced with ourselves in a wholly new situation, or even a wholly new form. That's why we send thinking beings out into space, and not just mindless probes, because it's the only way to really learn who we are. We deserve this chance to learn, and we must pay for that opportunity in risk. Risk that we will discover we are not always who we imagined we were."

He looked around the bridge crew faces peering at him.

"This mission is just beginning and we've survived this first test. There will be others. That's why we're out here. Captain out."

He signaled communications to reset the intercom. Delta Vega circled below on the viewscreen.

Spock said, "Do you have any orders for me, Captain? If not I have duties I would like to attend to."

Kirk managed a half smile, knowing the sound of it would come across in his voice. "Of course, Mr. Spock."

The lift doors swished closed. Kirk made himself sit back and forced each muscle to relax, releasing some of the panicked tension from his body.

He watched navigation and helm monitoring the ship. He would need to name a new first officer within a week. He wanted to appoint Spock, but with Spock's avowed refusal to be in the command line, he needed to talk to him first. He was certain Spock could handle it, but he'd also been certain about Gary. Maybe he needed to not be so certain of everything. In the meantime, minor reports and incidental organizational issues would be his own responsibility. He didn't mind the distraction.

Piper came to the bridge. "You're due for your post landing party exam, Captain."

"I'll get there before next shift," Kirk said. He shouldn't enjoy nursing his wounds, but he was darn well going to for a few more hours.

"I'll expect you before alpha shift, then, Captain."

Kirk nodded.

The gamma shift was drifting in when Kirk left the bridge. Shift changes were a sloppier affair than expected, with each position coordinating their own handoffs. Kirk hadn't decided if he needed to put a stop to it or not. It was apparently standard for this bridge. It irked him, especially this shift change, but he knew better than to speak since it was likely his own lack of control that was really bothering him. He'd address it when his head was on straight.

He met Spock in the corridor outside his quarters.

"Come in for a minute, Spock," Kirk said.

Kirk fell into his desk chair. Spock took up a position beside the desk.

"You haven't said I told you so yet," Kirk said.

"I was not intending to do so."

Kirk rocked back and reached for a bottle. One-handed, he set that out along with two tumblers.

"Have a seat."

Kirk pushed a full tumbler toward Spock and raised his own. "To absent friends."

Spock drank the entire tumbler down and peered at it thoughtfully. "May I ask what this is?"

"Fifty year old Scotch."

"Wood was involved in the processing of this beverage?"

"Yes, about 45 years of it. Oak."

"Interesting."

Kirk sipped at his glass again.

"Is it intended to be drunk slowly?"

"Spock." Kirk put his glass down to refill Spock's to the brim again. "You may drink it any way you like."

Kirk drank the rest of his down as well, letting the burn blot out his other aches. The heat seeped into his brain and numbed the emotions he had chased into the corners of his consciousness. Another four or so of glasses and he'd be feeling pretty good. He poured himself another half glass.

Kirk nearly spoke his immediate thoughts, but held himself back. Anything he might say would loosen his emotions and he didn't want to foist that on Spock. Spock was not a substitute for a friend of fifteen years, no matter how badly Kirk needed one at that moment.

Spock sipped his drink this time and placed the glass before him. His thoughts appeared to be elsewhere.

Kirk had to speak. Had to connect with someone at any level available.

"We are still estimated to be ready to depart at oh nine hundred and forty five?"

"Yes, sir. Everything is on schedule."

"The recovery crews haven't reported in."

"Some have. Mr. Scott and Doctor Piper have yet to file."

A cold horror seeped along Kirk's skin. He had been so worried about his ship, about putting on the right face for the crew, that he'd forgotten he needed to organize a memorial service, his first as captain, and likely not the last.

Kirk said, "Medical recovered the bodies." This was going to be question, but he made it a statement before he finished speaking.

"Yes sir. Dead for certain."

Kirk jerked his head up.

Spock said, "I felt compelled to check."

"Probably wise. Not that I don't wish it to be otherwise." Kirk took a larger sip of his drink. He was remembering.

"It wasn't him anymore." Kirk was back on the planet being treated like a toy. The voice. "Or maybe it was and I just didn't know him. Saddest part of it?" Kirk finished his glass, wishing he'd poured himself another full one. "He was human when I killed him. Otherwise I couldn't have done it."

Spock's voice was quieter than usual. "I am quite certain you did what you had to do."

"That's actually less consolation than one might hope for." Kirk looked at the bottle, but didn't pick it up. His right hand had started throbbing. He rested it in his lap and tried to ignore it. "I have to put a commendation in Dehner's file. Without her sacrifice, I wouldn't have defeated him."

Spock sat forward and took up the bottle and filled Kirk's glass.

Kirk felt his lips curl at the sight of this. "At least you don't have to carry me home."

"A fact I am well aware of, Captain."

Kirk propped his left elbow up on the desk and put his chin on his fingers, affecting an attitude of normalcy. "This is completely the wrong time to ask you this, but I'm going to anyway. Will you be my first officer?"

Spock considered him. "Are you certain you are choosing better this time?"

Kirk took a healthy swig of his drink. "No. I'm not. I'm not certain of much of anything at the moment, which is deadly for a starship captain." He breathed out audibly. The alcohol was taking full hold now. "That's not true. I'm certain of a few things. I'm certain you can handle the job. It's mostly administrative, and I notice you are already doing a lot of it, since a lot of reports you are summarizing come from sciences and engineering and those are the toughest. Anything you command someone to do, they should just do, since it's usually something I told you to tell them to do."

Kirk backed down. He was selling him hard on the idea strictly for his own sense of putting something to right.

"Don't decide now," Kirk sipped his drink. He might make it to five, although two was already deadening his sense of the immediate past.

"I would like to think about it," Spock said.

Kirk whispered dismissively. "Yes. Of course."

Kirk thought over the last few days. How clear it was in retrospect what course events were inextricably on. His hand throbbed again. Fear reared up in Kirk and he looked up sharply at Spock, who looked perfectly normal.

"Maybe you can explain something to me, Science Officer."

Spock set his glass down and sat up straighter. "If I am able."

"If you can't answer this one, I'm going to order you to find out the answer."

"Yes, sir."

Kirk sat forward. He could feel his heart pounding against the edge of the desk. "Why didn't the barrier affect you? You have extra senses."

"I am a telepath, Captain, but in my case that is purely a biological phenomenon."

"Wasn't it also for Mitchell and Dehner?"

"In a sense, yes, everything about them was a biological feature of their person, but their abilities were related to tapping into something outside our usual experience of space-time. My ability is a specialized sensitivity of the nervous system to tune into another's nervous system. More a radio, if you will, than physical and temporal transposition, which is how current theory explains the ability to see the future, or the present at a distance without aid."

Kirk sat back. He felt unsteady with unneeded adrenaline coursing through him.

"You've never had your esper rating scored?"

"No, sir. Would you like me to have Doctor Piper do so?"

Kirk smiled faintly. "No. It just hit me. You were perfectly normal, and I thought nothing of it. So much for keeping tabs on my ship and crew."

"You were in a mode of reacting, Captain. There was nothing to react to with regard to my condition."

"True. Not an excuse, however." Kirk felt sobered up from the delayed panic and took another swig. "And I badly needed you as an advisor. Even though I didn't want to listen to you."

Emotions were lurking, ready to bite deep. Kirk had worried they would strike while Spock was sitting across from him, now he worried they would after he departed.

"You all right?" Kirk asked.

"I am uncertain about which aspect of my existence you are inquiring."

"Well, most immediately, whether you are uncomfortable keeping your captain company."

Spock's brows lowered slightly as he shook his head. "No, sir." He tilted his head. "You seem most concerned about my comfort. Captain Pike was correct in that I am more than capable of taking care of myself."

"Ah, Spock, that's not the issue. Most everyone can take care of themselves. The trouble comes when they have to take care of someone else."

"I see. I admit it does not usually come up."

"Well, you seem pretty good at it." Kirk tried to guess Spock's thoughts. "But I bet you'd prefer not to get more practice."

Spock picked up his glass again and stared into it like a seasoned drinker. "I was not thinking that. Precisely." He took a sip. "I was thinking that I was failing in that exact duty given that you are sitting there with not insignificant injuries."

Before Kirk could respond, Spock added, "I would not have expected you to have a penchant for self-mortification. Perhaps you are making an exception, given the personal nature of these circumstances."

"You mean I feel I need to do penance after killing my best friend?" Kirk looked away at the partition. "I probably do." He swallowed the rest of his drink and set the glass down hard. He regretted doing so immediately but gave no sign. Just sat back, waiting for his shoulder to stop complaining.

Spock studied Kirk, then held up his glass to the light, tilting it in a circle like a chemistry beaker. "Interesting. Alcohol appears to make it harder for me to keep my mind shielded."

"You seem a little tipsy," Kirk said.

"I am not that." Spock said. "My other faculties are unaffected. But I am sensing your pain from over here. Given the level of it, perhaps you should visit sickbay."

"Maybe you're right. Let the good doctor patch me up, then I can get some sleep."

Kirk considered standing up, then sat back. "Piper will neutralize the booze before he does anything else. It'll be wasted. If I have a bit more, I won't notice the pain and I can just sleep."

"That is illogical, Captain. You will still be injured when you wake up. More so, perhaps."

"You say that about my chess playing, but I still win. Have I mentioned I like how graceful a loser you are? It's a good quality to have."

"My father taught me chess. I had no choice but to learn grace under defeat."

Kirk stared off beyond the hull of the ship. "Must be nice. I'm getting my lessons in defeat only now. I'm not very good at it. And I don't want to be good at it."

"In the end you won, Captain."

Kirk shook his head. "Doesn't feel like it. Maybe that's what being captain is all about. You never really win anymore."

Spock poured Kirk another glass full to the brim.

"You are going to owe me a bottle of that," Kirk said, even as he gingerly pulled the glass closer. He looked up at Spock with suspicion.

Spock said, "Yes, I am getting you drunk so that I can declare you unfit for duty and then order you to sickbay."

Kirk put his hand flat down on the desk and stared at Spock. "You know. I don't think Pike knew you at all."

"He did. As another member of his crew."

"There is no way you, of all beings, could be just another member of the crew." Kirk considered drinking more, but held off. "I don't buy it."

Spock folded his hands in his lap. He appeared almost serene. "I did not wish to be more than that. It was, in fact, my goal. And it was hard-won."

"But you can be so much more than that."

"Jim, that is something I have only recognized since provisioning at Kepler-395."

Kirk felt that statement slice cleanly into him, lancing something that was threatening to fester a good long time. "You do know how to make a guy feel good about himself." He raised his glass. "Cheers to you, Spock."

"And then perhaps sickbay, while you can still walk unaided."

"But no sobering medicines," Kirk said, taking a swig.

"If you offer that as an ultimatum of your cooperation, Doctor Piper may agree to it."

Kirk pointed at him. "You are going to become a tougher chess opponent. I can see it."

Kirk stood up, leaving the rest of the tumbler for later. The cabin door swished open as Kirk approached it, revealing the corridor dimmed for gamma shift. Kirk turned to find Spock behind him.

"You escorting me?" Kirk asked.

"I thought it wise."

Kirk made his way with Spock beside him. The curve in the corridor made him feel drunk, even though he actually wasn't quite yet.

At the lift, Kirk said, "Only the first officer is allowed to escort his drunk captain around the ship. That's a rule. I'm sure of it."

"I just had a realization, Captain."

The lift arrived, fortunately empty.

"What's that?" Kirk asked, gently twisting the lift control.

"You are playing chess constantly."

Kirk glanced at him, trying to keep from smiling. "And if I am?"

"That is grossly unfair, Captain."

Kirk laughed. "You are tipsy, Mr. Spock."

Spock crossed his arms. "It is unfair because in this game, I am going to lose myself."

Kirk pulled the lift handle to bring them to a halt and ignored his shoulder complaining about it.

"Spock," he said with feeling. He tried to clear the fog since this was going to be important. "Pike was a dependable, predictable commander. You got complacent. You shirked from the challenge. Sure, you can take on two, three extra jobs on this ship to keep yourself occupied, but are you really growing, Spock? Personally?"

Spock stared at him, deep in thought. "I do no comprehend how you do it. It is no wonder that you have so much confidence in your ability to change people."

"I can't change anyone beyond what they are actually capable of. The trick is to know what they are capable of, even if they don't. And hold that up so they can see it."

"It is working on me and it is most aggravating."

Kirk choked back a laugh and pushed the lift handle with his elbow, hiding his smile behind his hand.

"Spock. Thank you. You are doing a pretty good job of rescuing me here."

The lift doors swished open.

"That may very well be mutual, Captain."

And Spock was rewarded with that smile again, albeit a muted version, the one where Kirk had the universe at his feet.

FINI


End file.
